Chapter 327 – Assassination Attempt, StolenFlame, Tranquility, Wolfmother, and Invasion - Part 2

Snow charged into the Trueflame Tribe’s encampment, crossed the perimeter, and knelt before the flame.

Li Yuan swung down and sat cross‑legged; she collapsed beside him, covered in ice from head to toe. The fire softened her limbs. His own shadow blood stirred, rank climbing back seventh, sixth, and finally fifth rank. The cracks in his palm opened, bled, and sealed again.

“We’re still alive,” Snow panted. “Whoever it was—”

Li Yuan clapped a hand over her mouth and whispered, “Not a word.”

He rolled his neck, stood, and stared through the aisles of tents toward the entrance.

No one was there, but he knew the patrols and scavengers would be returning soon. So he stood by the bonfifire, warming his hands, and watched. People drifted back from the dark, but none bore the spectral 625 ~ 635.

Li Yuan waited, patient as stone, eyes quietly measuring every soul that passed.

By the fire, Li Yuan’s strength had climbed back to the fifth rank, far above the sixth rank power that now struck him as no more than an insect’s.

Snow soon headed to the wolf pens to report how their direwolf had gone missing. She mentioned nothing about the icy arrows in the dark, nor that the wolf had bolted near a maze deep inside the Deathless Tomb; she simply said they had been separated out in the wild.

A servant arrived with roast meat.

After they ate, Snow yawned. “Darling, let’s go back to the tent.”

“I’ll stay by the fire a bit longer,” Li Yuan said.

“Then I’ll keep you company.” She was exhausted. She had carried him half the way back.

Li Yuan drew her into an arm‑around‑shoulder hug. “You did well. By the way, what angry thought fired you up just now?”

“I pictured someone killing you.”

“You’d get

that

angry if I died?”

“Of course!” She clenched a fist. “If anyone kills you, I’ll avenge you even if it costs me my life.”

Li Yuan laughed, touched. “I’m not that easy to kill. Go sleep. I need to think.”

She hesitated. “Shouldn’t we tell Suljagartain? Someone lurking in there is a blasphemy against the Deathless Tomb.”

He had no wish to explain his doubts about the Deathless Tomb. “Trust me. Do as your man says.”

That gentle tone made her blush.

“All right.” She stretched, slipped into the tent, washed, changed into fresh furs, and poked her head out.

“Come sleep...” she called out, but the invitation was ignored. So she went to bed alone with a pout.

He kept his vigil by the flames, eyes fixed on the entrance to the settlement. The figure he waited for never appeared.

Maybe the attack wasn’t aimed at me at all, only at anyone who neared the maze.

Hours blended into days. He hardly moved from the bonfire; the stillness settled his mind and let one idea crystallize.

All things are mixtures of Yin and Yang. If that’s true, this fire must be pure Yang. What if I treat its heat the way I compress demonic beast blood?

Li Yuan inhaled slowly for nearly three minutes, drawing the heat into his lungs. Then he held the breath, crouched low, abdomen folded, every pore sealed so not a flicker of warmth leaked out. He shifted to another knot‑limbed stance, then another, compressing the heat exactly as he once compressed shadow blood.

If shadow blood is refined Yang, the same method should work on pure flames. I only need one success, just once, to break new ground.

Hair spilling about him, eyes glinting, he practiced, failed, practiced again.

Onlookers gathered. Some tried mimicking his twisted posture, only to sprawl in the dirt.

Many simply stared, brows furrowed. Was he mad?

A whisper spread,

“The outsider is defiling the sacred flame.”

One evening, back in the tent, Snow asked, “Darling, what are you doing out there?”

“Training.”

“There’s talk you’re...desecrating the Everflame.”

Li Yuan raised an eyebrow, chuckled, and hugged her. “Let them talk.”

The next morning, he strode to the bonfire and knelt full‑length before the blaze. Then he proclaimed in a clear voice, “In the name of the Everflame, I, Jen’gal Yuan, offer my deepest respect!”

Li Yuan resumed those contorted stances, declaiming as he moved, “O flame, great sacred Everfalme, let me salute you with the deepest posture I possess!”

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Several sleeps passed.

One night, when they lay down, Snow whispered, “The tribe thinks you’re...strange. They say your postures aren’t in any of the old manuals, that they might even

profane

the Everflame.”

“I see...” Li Yuan simply nodded.

The next morning.

Li Yuan sought out Suljagartain, who also happened to be looking for him as well.

“The Wolfmother has returned. She’s with the White Stag Tribe nearby. Will you meet her?” Suljagar asked.

“Not yet. I won’t leave until I’ve made some progress,” Li Yuan replied.

Suljagar frowned. “We agreed you’d go.”

“Yes, but I’m working on something more urgent right now.”

“You mean those ridiculous poses by the fire?”

“I’m trying to

cultivate

through the Everflame,” Li Yuan answered.

Suljagar blinked, then broke into a broad, almost mocking grin, clapping Li Yuan’s shoulder.

“Grand Elder, it’s not as though no one in the Nine Flames has pondered cultivation. I’ve even joined outside sects seeking such techniques. But I’ve realised that outsiders train because they were born weak. We’re born strong, and Heaven envies us. So we

cannot

cultivate.

“You should quit before people decide a devil’s seized you.”

“A devil?”

“Just tales from this frozen land,” Suljagar said. “Devils drove the gods away; the Everflame is the pity they left behind.”

Li Yuan thought a moment. He needed to stay close to the flames, close enough to turn the

impossible

into

maybe, just a little.

A tent would burn. Pretending that a god had appeared in a dream praising his form would only insult the tribe’s goodwill.

“Chieftain, let me study the Trueflame Tribe’s ancient texts so I can learn the proper rites and postures,” Li Yuan asked.

Suljagar hesitated, frowning slightly. “Those scrolls are for the chieftain’s eyes only, used only in the most important ceremonies.”

“Everything I do is to lead the Trueflame Tribe back into the sunlight,” Li Yuan said, eyes lighting up.

“... How long can you live?” Suljagar asked, pondering something.

“Easily for another 400 more years,” Li Yuan replied with a faint smile.

That answer appeared to decided it. Suljagar handed over the scrolls, then gripped Li Yuan’s shoulders, gaze steady.

“Take us out. We want to see the sun.”

Li Yuan nodded solemnly.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

A few sleeps later.

The tribe noticed the flame‑profaning Grand Elder had switched to a new routine. He was chanting guttural, archaic syllables they recognised as ritual speech, yet twisted into postures no ritual had ever demanded. They had seen Suljagar do something similar in the past, but never so painfully folded, so wildly bent.

It was the tribe’s rite, filtered through Li Yuan’s own, very personal interpretation.

By blending the traditional worship poses with his own adjustments, Li Yuan forged a fresh technique for

compressing heat

.

One night, Li Yuan had shared another intimate moment with Snow in bed. He’d done this frequently with her, hoping for another child. She curled against him in bliss.

“Do they still say I’m defiling the Everflame?” Li Yuan asked.

“No...but they still don’t know

what

you’re doing.”

Li Yuan smiled, answering in earnest, “I’m praying. Day and night, I knock my head to the ground so the gods shower

more

blessing on the Trueflame Tribe. Everything I do is for you and the tribe.”

Snow blinked, then looked up, eyes shining. “Darling, I never knew... They’ll understand your devotion.”

Li Yuan observed her closely. She

believed

him.

Three more sleeps passed.

During this time, Li Yuan had felt the tribe’s gazes change from suspicion to quiet awe. Some even knelt beside him, bowing to the flames.

But he knew it wouldn’t last. If his

prayers

brought no tangible boon, these muscle‑bound warriors would soon scoff again.

So he pushed harder.